in the name of the queen

Chapter 17 Transactions must be of equal value

Sylph chose to be cowardly.

Roland chose Yong.

While Sylph was panicking and summoning the palace doctor to give the teacher first aid, Roland was banging the table and yelling at the bald editor:

"Mr. Byron, don't tell me that the bonus hasn't arrived yet."

Today's training session ended quickly. Margaret was very satisfied with Roland's progress and gave him more free time.

Roland, who was relieved, immediately came to Collins Publishing House and approached Editor-in-Chief Byron to ask for the prize, but was rejected by the other party with both force and force.

An ordinary person would probably leave without hesitation, fearing that he would be judged in the future, but Roland didn't care about that.

He has been rejected by Byron countless times, what could be worse?

In this world, one pound of gold coins is equivalent to 7.5 grams of gold, which has strong purchasing power. His bonus can buy four houses in the prosperous district of the imperial capital.

With all this money, he still cares if the publisher doesn't accept his manuscript?
  Even if Sussex refuses to accept it, he can entrust Alina to publish it in the Kingdom of Jin Yuan. By then, he will be a returned overseas artist, and his net worth will rise.

In short, this bonus must be given today!
  Facing the menacing Roland, Byron was frightened and did not even dare to look at Roland, but he still refused to change his mind.

"Roland, this is the Royal Essay Competition. The prize money cannot be paid so quickly. Moreover, the big names in the literary world do not approve of the results of this essay competition."

Under Roland's murderous eyes, Byron pulled Roland to his private office and said in a low voice:
  "Roland, you have offended many people, do you know?"

"I didn't do anything wrong. Anyone who is offended should find their own reasons."

Byron reached out and patted Roland on the shoulder, then lowered his voice and persuaded her earnestly:
  "Roland, unless you can fly out of Sussex, you have to follow the rules. The literary world is not only competing for talent, but also for human sophistication. This time many big names participated in the essay competition, but the result was you, an unknown young man. If they win the championship, will they be convinced?”

Roland thought to himself that this is the championship I won based on my own ability. If Count Sif hadn't helped explain, he might not have even been able to save his life. Who else would he deserve for this championship?
  He was not in a hurry to slam the table and retaliate. After all, he also wanted to know who the enemy was, and to understand the real thoughts of these people, he lowered his voice and asked:
  "Mr. Byron, what do you mean?"

Seeing Roland calm down, Byron lowered his voice and said, "I don't mean it. It doesn't make any difference to me who wins the championship. I'm doing it for your own good."

"A young and talented young man like you needs time to accumulate. A distinguished guest proposed to me that as long as you voluntarily give up your ranking in the essay competition."

Roland narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

The main course is coming.

Byron coughed lightly and said softly: "The essay champion will be invited to participate in the Royal Art Salon. This salon is of a very high level, and big figures such as cabinet ministers and the Speaker will appear."

"You don't even know the etiquette of a gentleman. If you participate, you will make a fool of yourself. It doesn't matter if you make a fool of yourself, you will only lose the face of Her Majesty the Queen."

Byron chuckled and said softly: "Think about it, Her Majesty the Queen is not yet an adult, and she is at the age where she can act impulsively. What will happen if you embarrass her?"

"Being angered can even lead to loss of head." Roland followed his words.

Byron patted his thigh and smiled:

"You are very sensible. Her Majesty the Queen is thin-skinned. Your novel has already made her very unhappy. If you embarrass her again, it will be double humiliation. Even if you are just venting your anger, your end will not be good."

"So"

"What's the benefit of voluntarily giving up the championship?" Roland asked bluntly.

Byron was stunned.

The distinguished guest did prepare benefits, but he didn't expect Roland to be so direct.

Smiling awkwardly, Byron teased softly: "Roland, I have told you that your novels are full of worldliness, but you still don't believe me. How can a writer keep talking about money all day long?"

Roland glared at him and sneered: "Who has ever recognized me as a writer, you?"

Byron was speechless for a moment.

Yes, they have never regarded Roland as an insider, but they want to use the rules of the circle to restrain Roland. It is indeed a fool's errand.

Byron coughed lightly and said, "Roland, if you insist on claiming the championship prize, you will most likely end up being put into a sack, tied with stones, and thrown into the Tamas River. This kind of thing is very common here."

Roland was noncommittal.

But it was all nonsense before, he was waiting for a but.

Seeing that Roland was unmoved, Byron knew that this guy was not easy to fool, so he simply gave up the tactics of first intimidating and then comforting, and said directly:

"I know you want the bonus to buy a house. That distinguished guest respects your talent and requirements and is willing to give you one hundred and fifty pounds as compensation, which is enough for you to buy a house and more."

Roland looked at Byron with wide eyes and asked in surprise:

"You mean, I give up the five hundred pounds bonus, the championship glory, and the opportunity to participate in the royal art salon, just for one hundred and fifty pounds?"

He stared at Byron with an idiotic look, which made the bald editor-in-chief's face feel a little hot.

Of course the distinguished guest gave more than that.

He just wanted to keep a large part of it and give Roland a sip of soup. Is this too much?

Don't be so shameless!

Not to be outdone, Byron's eyes widened and he raised his head to look at Roland.

What he meant was clear.

Boy, don't be ignorant of praise. I asked you to take a sip of soup. Do you still want to take the soup pot away?
  Seeing that Byron refused to let go, Roland stood up directly.

"Roland, where are you going?"

"Nothing. Go to Fort Sheffield and go directly to the Secretary of the Interior to receive the award."

Seeing that Roland was really planning to leave, Byron quickly stopped him.

This fat guy was moving like an athlete.

"Don't leave, we have something to discuss."

"Since it is a business, you must abide by business rules, otherwise there will be no discussion."

Roland sneered and said: "The championship bonus is mine, there is no doubt about it. If we want to discuss business, the distinguished guest needs to compensate me for the loss of honor."

Byron was angered by Roland's irreverent attitude. He gritted his teeth and threatened:

"Roland, let me tell you, there are only a few teachers in the entire Imperial City who can teach noble etiquette. They can't teach you. It's useless even if they have money! Even if they are willing to teach, just a few days will not be enough."

"You're going to make a fool of yourself!"

A contemptuous sneer appeared on Roland's lips.

If the etiquette teachers outside don’t teach him, what about those inside the palace?

He snorted lightly and said disdainfully: "Whether I can find a teacher or not is my business. What we are talking about now is how much money the championship glory can be converted into."

Byron's old face turned red, but in the end he was no match for the contempt in Roland's eyes.

He knew very well that Roland was not the kind of rookie who would pee his crotch just by scaring him. He also knew that without a reasonable price, Roland would never accept the deal.

Byron's heart bleeds when he thinks that he could have made a profit with blood, but was forced to make a small profit by Roland.

He gritted his teeth and said: "A total of eight hundred pounds, this is the bottom line!"

"I will only consider it if it's two thousand pounds. Remember, it's just consideration. I will reject any insulting offer lower than this amount." Roland said solemnly.

Of course he didn't accept the deal.

Accepting the deal would be an insult to Earl Sif's goodwill, and that's absolutely not okay.

But that doesn't mean he can't play with the other person.

Seeing Roland's arrogant attitude, Byron was so angry that he almost had a cerebral hemorrhage.

If he accepted Roland's exorbitant asking price, he would have to pay two hundred pounds.

He does have money, but he only drinks blood and does not bleed.

Byron shouted angrily: "Roland, the distinguished guest only gave you one thousand pounds."

"Fifteen hundred pounds. Otherwise I will go to Fort Sheffield to receive the prize myself."

After a slight pause, Roland said in a deep voice: "Being lower than this price is an insult to the glory of the championship and this wonderful novel."

Byron almost suffered a cerebral hemorrhage.

I only wrote one sentence in total, which started with the question: Suite 13 in the core area of ​​the Imperial Capital, why don’t you XX grab it?
  Although he was so angry that he almost fainted on the spot, Byron knew that Roland was young and energetic and would never compromise easily.

Since I wasn't scared at the beginning, the final result was already determined.

He stared at Roland.

If anger could kill, Roland would have died thirteen times.

Finally, under Roland's "love or not" gaze, Byron compromised.

This way he can at least get a small kickback.

"Fifteen hundred pounds, pay a deposit of five hundred pounds first, and I'll give you the balance after everything is done!"

Roland stood up and walked out directly.

Byron stopped him and asked angrily: "What do you want?"

"Give it all to me."

Byron was speechless.

His fat face twisted and twitched in anger, but he still gritted his teeth and opened the safe, took out a large bag of gold coins and gave it to Roland.

Just when Roland was about to reach out, he pushed the contract over.

"signature!"

Roland looked at it briefly. It was a secret contract. Once signed, it meant that he would voluntarily give up the essay championship.

And he will receive fifteen hundred pounds of gold coins as compensation.

This makes sense.

Roland quickly signed his name.

"Deal, happy cooperation."

Byron said nothing with a dark face, watching Roland leave, a trace of ridicule flashed in his eyes.

Young people are indeed greedy.

I just don’t know if I have the life to spend this money.

Roland whistled as he left the publishing house and almost couldn't help laughing.

He did sign to give up the championship.

But he knew very well that someone would definitely try to get the money back.

The empire acquiesced in private contracts, but also had legal constraints. If one party to the contract uses violence to endanger the personal safety of the other party, the contract will be void and the remuneration specified in the contract will be used as compensation.

This law comes from the former Plantagenet Kingdom and is very old. The Sussex Empire retained part of the law after sinking the Plantagenet Kingdom, including this one.

Professional lawyers may not know this.

But Roland knew.

He was sure of the fifteen hundred pounds.

Since it is already a life and death situation, there is no need to be polite to the enemy.

Just as he was about to leave, the newsboy appeared again.

"Sir, would you like a newspaper?"

"Which newspaper?"

"Sussex Sun Essay Album, one shilling!"

"Why don't you go and grab it? Wait, is it The Sun?"

Roland took out a silver coin, gave it to the newsboy, and grabbed the newspaper.

I have to say that although the Sun's news is wild, it is sometimes accurate.

He opened the newspaper and read it as he walked.

This special issue is very detailed. It not only contains exciting excerpts of award-winning works, but also comes with brief introductions and exclusive interviews with these well-known writers.

Roland flipped through it patiently, looking forward to seeing the champion's masterpiece.

However, he was stunned to see only one line of small words.

"The essay winner will be announced live at the Royal Literary Salon, so stay tuned."

As expected of you, The Sun. It’s called the toilet newspaper for a reason.

Pooh!
  Roland smiled and crumpled the newspaper and threw it into the trash can.

A lovely day, except for the wasted silver shilling.

(End of this chapter)